


Bittersweetness (Judar x Reader)

by Arichuloco



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood, F/M, Family Feels, Judar falls in love, Near Death Experiences, Non-Graphic Smut, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Swearing, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6316804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arichuloco/pseuds/Arichuloco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was so used to being on the winning side of a battle. He was so used to taking and destroying and reveling in satisfaction. But how can he win a battle that he never learnt to fight? After all, love was never really his forte.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Him

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a while ago, but here it is now! I'm sorry if Judar is a bit OOC. I really tried. Honest.

Her voice to him sounded sweet. She sounded like she was pleading, even when she received what she wanted. She sounded like she wanted more of him. Pleasure overtook Judar as he arched his back, releasing a groan as she released her own moans. Her fingers clawed down the skin of his back, a pleasure he found she gave him without applying enough force to make him bleed or leave marks that would stay until morning. Even when she sought to hold onto him, Judar noticed she treated him with a sort of gentleness he couldn't put his finger on. 

Judar wasn't one who appreciated gentleness. As a matter of fact, he hated the very notion of it. Everything that he touched, he wanted to break. He wanted to see how things came apart in his hands, how they shattered and crumbled, returning to dust and ashes. 

But when he was with her, alone in his room, he found that his destructive touch was not needed. Where he had exposed the desperate reactions of victims begging at his feet for their lives, he couldn't see the purpose of that with her. 

(Y/n). The one who was no different from others except for the way that it seemed evident sometimes that she participated in the game of living reluctantly. Judar found it funny, almost stupid, how she seemed to care only because she had to. When he thought about it, she was a lot like him. Except as much as she found caring for others troubling, she still did it. Judar just didn't have the time for that.

He wanted to see if she would break in his hands at first; give into his harsh words and abuse. But she couldn't be broken. Not because she was strong. No, it was something like the exact opposite. She was like water. Something that was both separate and one. Judar couldn't break her, because she didn't give him the chance to. He couldn't break her, because she was so soft and malleable in his hands that she escaped in a form that continued to go on, no matter what force he applied to her. 

Judar found that no matter what he took from her, if there was anything, she didn't react the way he thought she would. He'd tried to hurt children in front of her, and she'd taken them back like he was a child having a tantrum over a toy. He remembered the madness and excitement that took him over when he held the children, threatening to kill them, awaiting the reaction he got from this sweet human. 

She'd stalked up to him calmly, as if they'd only just met and she was about to introduce herself to him. Judar took interest in her actions until she looked up at him desperately, reaching for his shoulders. His interest dwindled, that was until, the desperation changed into a look of deadly chill as quickly as a turn of a page. She looked angry and tired at the same time.

It was then that Judar noticed the string around his neck. 

Release the children or die. That was the choice that Judar was forced to make, and she made it very clear that she wasn't bluffing. She knocked him out right after, and when Judar woke up, she left behind no traces of their incident. 

She was deadly in the subtlest of ways. And she was weak in others. Judar poked, probed until he drove her into the corner. He wanted to know all of her secrets, all of her weaknesses. He wanted to bend her until she broke. 

But she already knew all of her secrets. She already knew she was weak. She already knew that she couldn't be as strong as others. She knew it, and she accepted it. And somehow, Judar speculated, that made her stronger than a lot of people. 

She was boring. Impeccably so. 

But for some reason, he was only further intrigued. He wanted to know if people like her could fall. Into depravity? He tried. He did. 

Seduction, he found, wasn't that difficult. 

She was callous, but curiosity persevered and he discovered that she was shy. It was incredible, finding that having her hands on him and giving her an intense stare made her so flustered. It happened once, and even when he tried again and failed, Judar knew what he saw. 

Under that form of unbreakable material, he found her innocence. And Judar was tempted to take and destroy it. He knew then how to hurt her. How to grind her into dust. 

But then again, he'd been wrong. 

She acted like it was nothing. Even after he touched her skin and made her whimper, she was back to being her. He took her at night, and by morning she was gone along her clothes, her side of his bed made. There was nothing left of her but her scent. 

Judar found himself chasing after her, before he knew it. She was such an unchanging character, indifferent to his antics. No matter how hard he made her heart beat in that one moment, he couldn't make it happen again whenever he wanted to. Judar discovered that she was the one in control. 

And he couldn't bring himself to hurt her anymore. 

It was in the way she touched him back. Judar never felt so precious until her hands stroked his face in what he would dare to call lovingly. She looked at him with a sincerity as she smiled at him. And her kisses were soft and gentle, like his lips were meant to be savoured. She was supposed to be falling under his spell, but it wasn't long for Judar to figure out whose magic was stronger here. 

She confused him. She drove him mad. 

One night she would be whimpering his name and grasping at his hair, and Judar would see pink rukh around her, mingling with his blackened butterflies. And the next morning, when he'd approach her, her rukh would flutter by with passiveness, as if the pink touching the essence of her being never happened. 

There was a clench in his stomach when he asked her about it. It grew tighter when she answered. He didn't understand. He didn't know. Why was he feeling this way? Why did he feel like his heart was being clenched in a fist?

Why was it that he was the only one who felt this way?

She was unbreakable, and instead of seeing her crumble, he saw what it was like to see a person bloom, unravelling into a flower. She opened her arms to him, and he saw a bird spreading its wings before flight. She called to him, and he heard a song that he knew only she could sing. Judar never thought he would take any pleasure watching anything other than the destruction he caused by his own hands. 

But here he was, her in his arms, singing his name into his ear as he held her close. Her body was so warm, the sweat clinging to both of them. He breathed onto her neck, placing light pecks on her nape. Was he the only one conscious of everything? Did she pay attention to the way their bodies fit, how their skin pressed against each other? Did she notice the way his arms held her close, hands splayed onto her back and pressing her even closer to him? Could she feel every motion of affection Judar wanted to give her, all sent in actions for the words he couldn't bring himself to tell her?  


Her arms still held tightly around him, even as she panted for breath. He revelled in the way she held onto him; like she was clinging onto a precious treasure she didn't want to lose. Or was that the way Judar held her? Her fingers that threaded through his hair and gripped it had loosened and started to trail down. Judar found that in the afterglow she loved to trace her hands over his body. And to be honest, he liked it too. 

Judar rested his head in the nook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Her fingers traced his nape, before roaming over his shoulders, his shoulder blades, and his back. Her palms pressed against each slope and curve, tracing his toned muscles. After going down, she brought her hands back up, to bury her digits in the mess of his hair, and cradle his head in her hand as she turned to trail kisses from his neck to his jaw.

If this was what it felt like to be loved, Judar didn't want it to end.

When she finished touching him, she held him close to her, arms almost as tight as his. They lied together, the two of them holding each other, her stroking his hair. He stayed still and let her do what she want. He found that she did sweet things with him when she thought he was asleep. Be it playing with his hair or humming a soft lullaby while stroking his cheek. Sometimes she played with his fingers, giving them little pecks on the tips and intertwining them. She was a fond person, and Judar liked it.

But it bothered him all the same.

She did loving things to him. When they were alone together, she let him touch her with familiarity. She touched him back and then they were close. But when it was with other people around, she was just as civil to him as she was with everyone else, holding him at a distance.

When they were alone, Judar swore she loved him. He swore that every touch she gave him was gentle for a reason. He was so sure. So sure that her eyes looked at him with a yearning for him. Not for his body, not for the pleasure, but for him. His entire being.

Yet, when morning came it was all gone. And Judar was left with an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Like something that was supposed to be there was just taken away. And he wanted it bad. He needed it back. 

It was a just few hours later, Judar just listening to the beat of her heart, when he felt her shuffle under him. He thought that she left just before he woke up in the morning, but he didn't think that she left him to be alone for so long. 

His arms tightened around her and he felt her freeze. A few seconds later, she tried to leave again and Judar nuzzled his face deeper into her neck.

"Don't leave," he mumbled. He didn't care how pathetic he looked to her. She'd just about seen everything about him, and she'd already made him feel things he didn't think he'd ever feel.

"Judar," he heard her whisper. She said it the same way someone would say sorry, and when she did he felt that same clench around his chest that made him want to stuff his face into a pillow and never get out of bed. 

She kissed him on the cheek, and trailed her light lips down his neck to his shoulder. Her hands did that thing she loved doing, moving up and down Judar's body, caressing him and pressing him closer to her. Why would she do this? Why would she make him feel this way and then leave?

"Judar," she whispered again. This time it sounded like she was urging him. She wanted to leave.

"Stay," he muttered into her neck. "I don't want you to go."

She sighed, and for once Judar didn't find pleasure in feeling her warm breath tickle his skin. "I'm going."

No. No. He didn't want this. Her voice was a little distant now, not as soft and gentle when she whispered to him. It was like she'd already put up the barrier between them, keeping Judar at arms length when it was day time, no matter how hard he tried to get her attention.

Empty. Lonely. Judar would probably describe the moments after she left with those words. He entertained the thought that maybe she was trying to do him mercy by letting him fall asleep first with her in his arms. Because Judar found that no matter how long he kept his eyes closed, all he could think of was the smell of her hair and her warm skin against his. And how cold the bed felt without her.


	2. Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walls are falling down, and Judar isn't the only one who questions their emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! Hope you all enjoy this new point of view!

Gentle caresses. Whimpers and moans.

Only in times like these would she allow her heart to yearn for someone else. Her hands betrayed her, and she knew that he caught on, she knew from the very first time she allowed her facade to slip off and looked him in the eyes without it. She could see the surprise, and she felt and heard it too, in the stutter of his hips and a sudden intake of breath.

It wasn't like her to let people in. It was just the way she raised herself. She'd seen other people's mistakes and learnt from them when they couldn't. She'd built up a barricade, quick to take action and impenetrable. But just this once. In moments like these, where she knew that it was okay to let herself out for a while, she let people in.

But she didn't let them stay.

This was the quick and easy way, to make sure that she didn't get hurt. Even if it meant that other people did. But it was him. And he was okay. He didn't want her for her. At least, that was what she believed in the start.

He was forceful and ravenous. His mouth left angry marks on her skin, possessively marking her as his. She didn't care, honestly. He could've growled all he wanted to, gripping her body roughly like it was a toy to play with, and she wouldn't have cared. There were worse men to take away her chastity, and she was just relieved that she'd gotten rid of it.

She didn't care because now there was nothing to hold her back.

She knew that Judar wanted to know her weaknesses. She knew that he wanted to see her at her weakest point. Just to see what she looked like when she suffered. But she didn't give him the chance to use it against her anyways.

She left him with a cold bed in the morning, acting like nothing between them happened. She knew how to play the game, maybe better than Judar himself. She knew that he would taunt her and call her a slut and a whore. And she shrugged it off. It didn't bother her because that was Judar's opinion. And it didn't bother her because no matter who he told about her sex life, it didn't change her status in the palace. She was still going to be untouchable for her strengths, and because she bedded Judar, a strong magi, it was even more reason for people not to mess with her.

He did hurt her though, she had to admit. Her innocence was something that she had treasured and hoped to give to someone special a long time ago. But as she grew and realized that her desires and her laborious job at the palace just didn't coincide, she faced the reality that her someone special would never be safe with her.

She couldn't bear to be attached to someone and risk the pain of losing them, or being lost to them.

So she gave up that dream.

Judar, she would find herself thinking, was probably the last man she would have sex with for the sake of intimacy. Judar was cruel and immature. He desired like a child and rampaged with psychopathic rage. But there were points getting rid of her virginity by him. First was that he wasn't that bad to look at anyways; she knew he was always good looking, except his personality was as clear as mud (save for those few times when they could have a normal conversation). Second was that she knew that she didn't matter to him. Having sex with him and leaving wouldn't hurt anyone's emotions, and it was better knowing that she could walk away without feeling guilt for him. Third was the status quo. Doing it with Judar may be incredibly shallow, but who would mess with someone that might have meant something to the Kou Empire's magi? That was, if people would believe that Judar would be protective over her. Or possessive. Either way, people wouldn't dare to get in her way. Lastly, sleeping with him would defeat his little game of trying to find her weakness, thus leaving her alone.

That last part didn't really work out.

It was surprising, just a little, how he would come back to her and tease her for more. It was unexpected, but it still worked out. She had fun, and at the same time, it strengthened the possibility that Judar would make sure that no one messed with her, his possession.

She didn't belong to anyone. She knew she was free, of course. Even if Judar thought differently. Even if the marks on her body that he left at night claimed her as his. She didn't play the game he thought he knew. She dominated it. Like taking candy from a child.

But some things...got out of hand.

She knew he didn't care. Knew he probably would've liked to think that he got inside her heart and had her strung around his finger. Judar got to see parts of her she couldn't show to anyone else. Parts of her heart that she wouldn't allow herself to show to any of the vile adults of the world. She let him see it because it was a way to tempt him, and a reminder that no matter how close he'd think he'd gotten that he wasn't there at all.

But her hands. Her heart, yearning for a companion, had a strange direct connection to her hands. And she knew Judar noticed how her hands moved with a gentleness that only happened when a heart treasured something. It wasn't real. She didn't love him. She couldn't have. But her heart wanted to.

It wanted to love someone. Anyone. 

She knew he must've fallen in love with her touch. Even if he wasn't honest about it. She could sense it in that way he became gentle with her in bed over time. His gaze on her changed from ravenous hunger to desperate pleas for something she wasn’t sure of. And his kisses became sweeter and lingering.

It was becoming too much. He was getting attached, and so was she. Judar looked at her with affection, even if he didn't know it himself, and she couldn't bring herself to hurt someone like that. Well, she could, but not without carrying the incredible burden of the guilt.

They started holding each other after they finished. She stroked his hair and hummed sometimes, and let her hands roam his body while pressing his soothing warmth closer to her. She nuzzled her face into his neck, breathing in his scent of peaches and sun and something musky that was just distinctly _him_. And he did some of his own touches too. He'd hold her close, from behind, trailing light kisses on her neck and shoulders. Judar also had this strange habit of tracing circles around her bellybutton, and he liked it when their legs were completely tangled. Secretly, she liked it too.

But it was too far, and too dangerous. 

"Don't leave."

It was so small, she barely heard it. But it was there, and she realized how exposed he was to her. Soft and vulnerable. She could almost hear the pleading in his voice.

It was so painful. She didn't want to hear that from him.

"Judar."

She looked at him, seeing nothing but a head hidden under a mess of black hair. Black hair that she always found herself taking pleasure in the feel of, the silkiness of it, and the way that it slipped through her fingers like liquid. She had a strange fondness of that hair, and wished that one day, a desire she felt betrayed herself, that she would braid his long hair for him.

But she couldn't. Not when she had to uphold herself. 

Kisses and touches. Apologies in the best way that she could. She left it on his shoulder and on his neck, placing a good amount of kisses where she knew he liked them. Just under his ear, along the start of his jaw. In this moment, she could pretend that she loved him. She could touch him like a lover would. And could feel the way that she wouldn't ever allow herself.

Just because it was Judar.

"Judar," she whispered again. She needed to leave. It was her rule. She didn't exactly know why she did it, but it was something that she knew she couldn't break. She couldn't let herself stay so vulnerable for so long, and she really shouldn't be trusting him enough that she would fall asleep in his bed and in his arms.

"Stay." Judar's breath tingled on her skin, making her fight down the shiver that wanted to run through her body. He nuzzled his nose closer to her neck. "I don't want you to go."

It hurt. Her chest hurt.

"I'm going."

It was difficult. More difficult than it should've been to steel herself and push him off her. It should've been easy, but it wasn't. She didn't like the way his voice touched her. It was softer and it held a sort of emotion that she wasn't familiar receiving from Judar. For some sort of reason, she found her own heart aching to stay, to lean over and kiss him and hold him close. She wanted to stay with him. She really did.

And it scared her.

Putting her clothes on was different. The air suddenly felt colder, and it was unnerving to hear the rustle of fabric in the silent room. Normally, she'd be taking her time, listening to the soft snores that came from the bed. But Judar wasn't asleep, and he was just a constant reminder of a choice that she didn't make.

She wondered why it felt colder now, when she walked back alone to her chambers. She wanted to return to the warmth on that bed. She wanted to feel the silken hair on Judar's head. And she wanted to listen to the way his breathing slowed down as he fell asleep. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to stay. She wanted to love him.

(Y/n) sighed as she lied down on her own chilled bed, her hand fisting the cloth over her chest. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the warmth of  Judar's arms around her, and the way his slumbering breaths would tickle the hairs on the back of her neck. And his hair. Judar's long and tedious hair, tangling with their limbs and smelling like peaches and the breeze, if the breeze had a smell. If she kept her eyes closed, she could imagine him right there, as if she'd never left. (Y/n) opened her eyes, a heavy feeling in her abdomen as she realized how much she wished it wasn't her bed she lied on.

Perhaps she was already in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I should make another chapter...I kinda want to, but I don't really know how to start it :/  
> What do you guys think?


	3. Stupid Over Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judar reflects over his feelings and comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that I'd update sooner but I lost my original plotline for this after my final exams and had to restart from scratch ;_;
> 
> I've also been in my home country as of late, thus my busy schedule, but im still trying! This is just some filler until I'm able to develop an actual plot. I'm sorry if it's not as good as the first two chapters :

If Judar was anything, it wasn’t stupid.

He’d hear her voice around a corner, and by the time he came around, she was gone. He’d see her talking to another general about whatever boring work she had to do, and just as he’d spot her, she would be swept away into her job. It was just convenient that whenever he was around, she’d be gone. Judar couldn’t even catch her in her own room at night; she’d be mulling over military strategies and speaking to the princes and princesses of the Kou Empire.

Even when she was sleeping, it was while she was working and in an uncomfortable position at her desk. Judar never worried for people, but wondering why she would prefer the desk over her bed was as close as anyone got.

Judar knew that (y/n) was a busy woman. She knew how to juggle her time effectively so that she wouldn’t be so overwhelmed by her responsibilities. But he didn’t remember her having so many paperwork and so many meetings. Wasn’t she supposed to be playing with the children around this time in the afternoon? She was supposed to be picking out the best peaches for him last Thursday. She always did that for him, for some strange reason that he didn’t really complain about.

Well, to be honest, it was probably for the children, but it didn’t really make much of a difference to him. Peaches were peaches. If it tasted good, it had to be his.

But that didn’t change the fact that (y/n) was acting strange.

She had no more time for fun, and Judar couldn’t remember the last time he ever heard her voice speak gently. In the same way that she spoke lovingly to the children that she cared so much for.

In the same way that she used to say his name when he took her to his bed.

Judar didn’t like this (y/n). She was just too austere and too busy. She was just so _boring_.

But, again, Judar wasn’t stupid.

He noticed how she’d never looked him in the eyes when he came around. She’d never even glanced at his direction. If anything, it looked like she’d force herself to look forward and pointedly away from him. It was a subtle detail, since he knew that (y/n) was a splendid actor when it came to her emotions. But he caught it.

(Y/n) was avoiding him.

Judar thought about the last night that they were together. How he’d told her to stay. The kisses and touches; caresses and apologies. Maybe they were too much. It made sense to him. Love was disgusting and a weakness. He knew that and he knew that (y/n) felt similarly about it. That was the reason she kept up with sleeping with him, right?

But she craved it. It wasn’t just because her hands showed him what it felt like to be loved, but also because he’d seen her disgusting display of affection towards the children. She kissed them and held them. Not the same way that she kissed and held _him_ , but it was love all the same. She loved those children, and it disgusted Judar. Maybe it was because she knew it was her weakness and did nothing to change it. Then again, she nearly killed him when he threatened the children before. So maybe it disgusted him because he’d never been loved that way. He'd never been mothered and shown affection the same way that (y/n) so willingly gave out.

All those children without mothers that stuck around like pests near the palace, and still, they were able to be loved more than he had ever been in his own childhood. And all because of her. 

Judar got nearly anything he wanted at his beck and call, so wasn’t very well acquainted with jealousy either. Yet the feeling of envy that constricted his chest left him craving the only nurturing touch he'd ever felt his whole life. He wanted to hold her again and feel the smoothness of her skin as he pressed her body against his. He wanted to feel her warmth as she held him close and whispered his name. He wanted to be engulfed in her scent when he leaned into her neck and placed kisses that would make her shiver. He wanted her. **_Holy fuck_** , how badly he wanted her.

It was strange though.

He wanted to touch her underneath his silken sheets, but he also didn't. Sometimes he just wanted to hold her. Just hold her. Simple as that. No sex, none of that. Just...being with her.

With the exception of maybe peaches and destruction, Judar never had the feeling of missing something. But he missed her. There was no question about it. No matter how much he denied it or tried to distract himself, he really missed those intimate nights. 

But did she feel the same? Who knew? She was too busy avoiding him and replacing him with work. Judar hated how he was probably the only one of them that felt this way.  
  
And if there was anything Judar was familiar with, it was hate.  
  
So he tried to hate.


	4. Stupid Over Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader reflects on her inner conflicts and confronts them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this chapter quite long since I finally got the plot, and also I haven't updated when I promised I would during my summer vacation. So please enjoy this extra long chapter! Also please do leave your reviews and comments! They're all welcome :)

She was torn.

Or, at least, she would’ve been if she wasn’t stupid.

The reality was that getting involved with Judar was dangerous in the first place. It was already dumb to let him kiss her once, and much more irresponsible to let him do it again. And again. And again. And again. She let him take her to his room, and treat her like she _belonged_ to him. As if she were an item, or to better describe the feeling: he treated her like a toy.

The worst part was that _she let him._

She wasn’t stupid. But sometimes she felt like it. As if her whole life was weighing her down on her shoulders, and that she desperately tried to find substitutes for everything that she ever wanted, even if they would hurt her in the end. She made mistakes and convinced herself that she had it under control. Maybe if she told herself that often enough, it would actually merge into reality. But really, it didn’t.

_In reality,_ she left the room in the early hours of the morning feeling an empty feeling in her chest and a sickly feeling in her gut. _In reality,_ she closed her eyes tightly and imagined that the man with her loved her, trying really hard to replace the intentions of the tight grip on her hips with affection rather than pure carnal lust. _In reality,_ she wanted to be in love and intimate with another person, and she wanted to shower them with all the affection that she could. She wanted to love, she wanted to care, she just wanted to be happy.

She wasn’t stupid, but everyone made mistakes. Hers was that she went looking for love in a man that had no capacity to love. In fact, it was probably a mistake anyhow to be looking for love especially with the dangerous job that she had. Love would only get her and her partner hurt. At least in her current case she was the only one that could possibly get hurt. Despite all the factors that were against her, she found a silver lining. Even if it was a stretch.

Recently, she was starting to think that was no longer the case. So she distanced herself. Because there was no way in hell, heaven, or earth that Judar could possibly love her. He was a psychotic brat, and that was it. Letting herself be deluded to believe that Judar even for the slightest felt fond of her was a level completely beyond idiotic. As much as she didn’t want to believe it, it was probably the truth.

And what else was the truth?

The truth went back to the fact that there was no room for love in her job. Sure, she could accept her weaknesses, but that could only bring her so far to become her own strength. They were still weaknesses that could be used against her, regardless if she acknowledged them or not. The Kou Empire was a kingdom of war and militia, and for the last couple of months that she had been letting herself be blinded by delusions of love that she had let herself slip from her own responsibilities to her country.

There was no more time to fool around.

(Y/n) found herself avoiding places she knew would make her heart ache. Places such as the courtyard that was a few halls away from her offices, where she knew children would play and would wait for her. She would purposefully stack and busy her Thursdays with endless work because if she didn’t, she would think about how nice the day looked outside and she would think about how she had a little bit of time to go out and get peaches for the kids. But if she kept herself busy then there was no time for kids, no time for peaches, and no time looking for extra juicy ones that she knew Judar would probably steal anyways. There was no time for sentiment, and no time to let herself think about how much she was hurting.

How could anyone feel the right to love when they sat at their desks deciding the worth of the lives of men in battle? How could she when she was also planning how to kill the ones on the opposing side? Men who were fathers, sons, and brothers? Beloved family that (y/n) would have also treasured if she had any?

She couldn’t do that. Whichever way she looked at it, she was weak. Weak for loving and weak for not having the strength to love.

She felt her weakness especially when she saw him.

Judar.

Her traitorous heart throbbed at the sight of him, and at the sound of his voice around the corner of the palace halls. Even with a glimpse of black, she’d feel her pulse rise at the expectation that he might be there. It was torture trying to focus on what she knew was her greater priority while she craved his company. She didn’t want to push him down and ravage him, no it wasn’t that kind of craving. She just wanted him to be there. She wanted to see his expressions and tolerate his annoying pestering, _“This is so boring!”_ She wanted to feel him hold her around her waist and fly away from her rooms to get her away from her work and “learn how to have fun”. She wanted to be around him.

She missed him. And she could only handle so long until she felt like she was going to rip apart from her own inner conflict. She needed to handle this in a way that worked. And what other way than to suck it up and confront her problems?

He stood in front of her with a cool gaze when she called his name.

“Judar.”

The magi stared her down, an unfamiliar cruelty in the way he just regarded her. It wasn’t like she’d never seen it before, it was just that she’d never seen it directed towards her. Even when he’d attacked the only light of her life, the children, he hadn’t seemed this cold. Judar’s red eyes were angry and sinister, as if he was wondering at that moment how he should kill her.

(Y/n) would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid.

_Why is he like this? Did something bad happen?_

(Y/n) steadied herself and silently cursed for letting that scare her. She never felt afraid before. Why should she now?

“Did you lose another battle again?” she tried to tease, a small smile on her face. “We can go pick some peaches if you’d like.” Of course, that meant her picking the peaches and Judar ranting about what new brat got in his way to her. That was their dynamic, she thought.

To her surprise, Judar’s expression changed, only instead to his annoyed expression that (y/n) was expecting, he’d glared at her with such a burning hate that she had to take a step back. He followed up, taking a menacing step forward, his red eyes still boring deep into hers with so much intensity that (y/n) was wondering if she was truly in danger. But that couldn’t possibly be, right? She and Judar were already past that. Although she didn’t really want to think about how far past that they were.

Pain came in variety. (Y/n) knew all about pain. She knew about external pain and internal pain. The kind of pain you could only get being in the midst of battle. The kind of pain that happens when you’re pushed past your limits, in all forms. She knew about the pain that didn’t have physical medicine, and she knew about pain that came when your body needed something it couldn’t have.

This particular pain that she now felt was the suffocating pressure of her lungs as Judar swept her off her feet again and pressed her up against the wall.

To be more specific, Judar had grabbed her by the throat and flew until her body had crashed into the walls of the palace, holding her against the wall 5 feet above the ground.

He leaned closer to her face, tightening his grip as she struggled in his grasp. (Y/n) dug her nails into his hand, fighting for a breath. Judar snarled, “Don’t act so familiar with me, bitch. You’re nothing but a worthless shit that I use for my own pleasure. I don’t like to associate myself with weakling dogs like you.”

She now knew heartbreak.

(Y/n) forced herself to look up into Judar’s gaze. She expected to see his callous eyes filled with his desire for sadism, but it was surprising to see his features twisted into an unrecognizable emotion. Before she could decipher it, he’d pulled her back from the wall and slammed her back into it. (Y/n) hit the wall hard with a crack, knowing that her head was probably bleeding now. The stars she saw in her vision only further confirmed her suspicions.

_What’s wrong? He was hurting her! Why wouldn’t she move?_

Judar tossed her body aside like an old and undesired ragdoll. He hadn’t done that in a long time. (Y/n) could remember how he’d started to lay her down gently into the bed, or at least coax her into it instead of throwing her on it and then having his way with her body. He’d started to wait until she got comfortable before starting the process. He wasn’t as rough as he was before. As a matter of fact...he’d almost stopped being rough. But now (y/n) felt the cold marble floors of the Kou palace collide sharply with her body, the physical injury adding more salt to her wounds.

She knew heartbreak.

(Y/n) struggled to push herself up, her head injuries giving her vertigo. She could already feel where on her body would have bruises the next day, and which muscles would be feeling sore for several weeks. All she wanted to do at the moment was to surrender to her misery and heartbreak. Her heart ached from the striking realization that there was no way that Judar could ever love her, and if for a moment he even did, he didn’t anymore. He probably caught on faster than her, and he’d made his choice.

(Y/n) knew heartbreak. And she knew she was weak.

But there was no way that someone was going to get away with humiliating her.

The battle was fierce, and it was sad. Not sad in the way that there was a party that was obviously weaker than the other. Despite not having a Metal Vessel of her own, (y/n) was able to hold her own in a brawl, even if it included magic. She had her swiftness and great speed to her advantage, and the fact that her chosen weapon was too subtle to be noticed gave her an upper hand.

(Y/n) fought with sadness and angst, her ferocity rooting from her feelings of betrayal, and with the bitter acceptance that _she was so stupid, stupid,_ **_stupid_ ** _!_ She fought angrily and with so much savagery that she didn’t bother to care or fully process the look of utter shock from Judar when her attacks became overwhelming. She was quick and brutal. She was sad.

She was heartbroken.

And reckless.

If she’d only paid attention, or if her vision wasn’t so blinded by tears, then maybe she would’ve noticed the growing chill around her. Maybe she would’ve prepared a defense with her weapon, maybe she would’ve been able to get out of the way.

But she didn’t.

So she was caught by surprise when Judar’s own focused expression transitioned drastically into a face of horror and when the intention of his outstretched hand changed from attacking her into reaching out for her with an air of desperation.

She only noticed when she found herself looking down at the beam of ice that protruded her chest, and the growing tint of red that began to seep through her clothes. Steam rose from her body where the contrast of hot and cold met. _This was the end. This was how she was going to die. By the hands of the man she wished she never loved._

(Y/n) closed her eyes in acceptance, embracing her fate and the shock that kept her from feeling the pain. She wanted to succumb to her end before all that started coming in. Her knees buckled under her, the strength leaving her body just as the essence of her life did. She was too far gone by the time she heard someone scream her name in a fractured voice and warm arms wrapped around her body before her body could completely fall to the ground.

Maybe she was stupid, but at least she didn’t go down without a fight.


	5. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judar figures out what it means to know what he has until it's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry (not really) for the sad ending in the last chapter, but HEY! It's not over yet until we get to see Judar's perspective of things ;)
> 
> Judar's character development seems to have bad timing
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and please enjoy! :)

It was no surprising news to anyone that Judar took a peculiar sense of pleasure watching things crumble underneath his power. Judar himself could recall some of his most enjoyable days being spent watching villages burn and listening to people scream in fear of him. Judar basked in the look of fear he received the same way a cat would roll back to bask in the warmth of the sun.

He felt none of that now.

All he felt was frantic scratching against his hand, which was encased in a tight grip around the neck of a woman he had once held softly. Her hands scratched with the urgency for air, a desperate look in her eyes as the lack of oxygen caused her eyes to tear up. She had none of that fear that Judar was used to. None of that sudden realization of horror that should’ve flashed through her eyes when he’d been cold to her in the beginning. Even now, she wasn’t afraid of him. 

_ Maybe that was why he felt-- _

Judar saw raw emotion reflect in her eyes.  _ Betrayal. Hurt. Why? _

Now where was that sense of gratification that usually came with the revelation that Judar had only been deceiving others? He found himself conflicted looking at (y/n). Why didn’t he feel satisfied? Why did he feel a pang in his chest and an  _ incredibly wrong _ feeling in his gut just seeing her struggling for her life under his hand?

Judar didn’t like it. Maybe he should try again.

This time, when he slammed her against the wall, he heard a sharp crack along with a pained cry that made his stomach plummet. But he didn’t stop. Maybe if he kept going, then the wrong feeling that acted up inside his chest might go away. Yet, even after tossing her aside (the full five foot drop and then some), he only began to feel worse. Her landing was harsh, and Judar felt like cringing when he heard the sharp slap of her body against the marble floor. 

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to do this.

Every essence that Judar was made out of just told him that what he was doing was  **_wrong_ ** , and for once, he didn’t disagree. 

He hovered over her, feeling his brows knit together in an unfamiliar expression. (Y/n) stayed slumped on the ground, nursing the side that she’d landed on.  _ But she wasn’t moving. _ Judar felt a sense of panic growing inside him, but not until she slowly started to get up from her lying position, pushing her upper body up with some difficulty. He noticed that she swayed to the side a bit, as if she were being tilted off balance. Then he spotted the stark shade of crimson smudged against the floor where she lifted her head from.  _ Oh no. No, no, no, no. He didn’t mean to do this. He hurt her but he didn’t want to anymore. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like seeing her blood. He didn’t like seeing her hurt. He didn’t like it. Oh no. He wanted to undo this. He wished he never slammed her into the wall-- _

Judar felt another strange feeling act up in his chest again.

(Y/n) had suddenly turned to face him. She wasn’t wearing the expression that he was expecting, rather she looked ferocious with the blood smudged across her cheekbone and tears falling out of her angry eyes. Judar’s breath caught.

_ She still looked beautiful. _

But then she’d screamed such a heart wrenching cry that Judar couldn’t help but feel the heartbreak himself.  _ Or maybe that was his? _ Her attack was so sharp and precise that Judar found himself narrowly escaping death with that first blow. She leaped for him like that bleeding head of hers wasn’t affecting her at all, and she landed a powerful kick against his abdomen that sent him flying across the hall and out the doors that led to one of that palace’s courtyard. It was shortly after Judar landed on the dirt that (y/n) had joined him outside, screaming profanities at him that he’d never heard her say, all the while she aimed a dagger at his head.

Judar rolled away in time to see the blade embed itself on the spot where he laid barely seconds ago, and that was when he realized that _ she was really out to kill him _ . _ He hurt her and now she was going to kill him. _

**_“You’re nothing but worthless shit.”_ **

Judar wished he never said that.

**_“I don’t like to associate myself with weakling dogs like you.”_ **

He was about to learn if what he’d said to her earlier was true.

Judar contemplated several times while trying to escape with his life if he should tell her to stop. If maybe they could talk this out. But what would they even talk about? What could he possibly say to her that would make her understand? And most importantly, did she even want to listen? Judging by how she was now, Judar knew that she would be inexorable. In the end, he decided not to say anything because he’d be humiliating himself for putting up a bravado and then not carrying on with it. 

But he wanted to stop. The fight was still raging, but Judar already felt defeated. Every single time he got a good look at (y/n)’s face, he could feel himself wearing down. He liked the look of broken things, but he didn’t like it on her. He couldn’t take the lostness that showed on her face, despite her actions being so sure to strike him down. More than once too. 

She cried all while fighting. Judar didn’t know anyone who did that. But it was obvious that he’d broken something precious inside her ( _ her trust _ ) and she was fighting him like a threatened animal. Despite all of this being his fault, she wasn’t the only one that was hurting.

Judar never really hated himself, despite being really good at hating in general, but now he understood. He could feel his hate for himself growing more and more each time he came close enough to see her face. Each tear was a clench around his heart, and each time he caught a glimpse of the deep heartbreak in her eyes his will to fight ebbed away.

He didn’t want to fight her. He didn’t want to hate her anymore.

Judar fought on autopilot most of the time, being forced to do so when (y/n)’s attacks were being so relentless. He knew that every word he said about her being weak was wrong. Truth being told, the moment she had wound a string around his neck during his first encounter with her, he’d surrendered immediately. So this was the first time that Judar had ever properly fought against (y/n). He found himself needing all the focus that he could get to just keep at her pace. Her attacks oriented around being quick enough that her opponents couldn’t keep track of her, and her speed created enough momentum to power behind her attacks to multiply the damage done versus if she’d just punched him outright. (Y/n)’s strategy should’ve worn her out, as all speed oriented fighters should be, but that was the thing. (Y/n) knew when she was getting tired, and her weapon of strings would snag on her opponents and bring them to her instead of her coming to them when she would feel any oncoming sense of fatigue.

So, yes, Judar found himself in difficult situations against her enough without his inner turmoil.

His desperation to simply survive her drove him to rely on his natural battle instincts. Judar didn’t notice what he was doing at first; he barely even registered gathering energy and giving his magoi orders when it happened. When he did, it was already too late. 

He had his hand outstretched with his wand, urgently trying to keep up with (y/n)’s rage. He didn’t know for sure if she was really going to kill him. He could’ve easily done her in. He was a master of magic, a force to be feared. But he didn’t want to kill her. He wanted to survive and at least wear her down. It wasn’t easy when (y/n) herself was a master of combat and conserving her stamina, and it certainly wasn’t easy to do it when the last thing Judar really wanted to do at the moment was hurt her.

So how did it come to this?

How did Judar end up screaming her name while she bled her life out in his arms?  _ How? _ It was the last thing he wanted to do, the last thing he decided he wanted to destroy. Terror gripped around him, a new emotion crashing into his chest in intense waves. Her face was so pale and blank of any expression. Judar didn't miss how she closed her eyes easily, like she was giving up her fight. No, no,  _ no.  _ This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t allowed to die! She wasn’t allowed to give up! 

“No, no, no, (y/n) please don’t--I don’t want you to--you can’t die! Don’t you dare die on me!” Judar cradled her body closer to his chest, panic settling in when he realized how chilled her body was getting and  _ there was so much blood. _

He didn’t know much life magic. He wished he paid more attention on it, but he was just so sure that he was strong enough to handle himself that he just knew that he didn’t need it for himself.  **_He didn’t need it for himself._ ** But, please, he needed it for her. She was slipping away so fast and she wasn’t opening her eyes and was she even  _ breathing _ ?

He placed his hand against her cheek, turning her head so that it would face him. It scared him how limp she was and how she didn’t even react to anything. Judar searched for something,  _ anything _ , to show him that she was still alive. Her eyes remained shut, and for some cruel reason she almost looked like she was happy, in peace. She looked like she was already prepared to die. 

He shook her again. “(Y/n), wake up. Wake up, (y/n)! You’re weak! You’re too weak! You’re supposed to be alive right now to prove me wrong! Wake up! Wake the fuck up, you useless woman! (Y/n)!” Judar leaned down and placed his forehead against hers. He wished that she would open her eyes. He remembered a time that he would do the same thing and her eyes would flutter almost shyly at him and look at him like he was the only one that mattered. Her eyes, which glowed with passion. Her eyes, which he never told her he thought were pretty. Just her. Alive.

How did it come to this?

Judar pulled away and pointed his wand at the red splash that was quickly spreading across her body that for once made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t know how to do life magic, but he would try. For her, he would try anything if that meant that she would live.

He didn’t know how long he tried or how loud he screamed her name, begging her to  _ please wake up. _ Judar didn’t know if it was even too late to keep her, to bring her back to him. But he wasn’t going to stop. He was the Kou Empire’s black magi. He was one of the most powerful beings alive. He wanted to save her, and he was going to save her. 

_ Come on, (y/n). Wake up. Wake up. I can’t lose you. I can’t. Please wake up. _

“Judar?”

The magi whipped around to see one of the Kou princes, Hakuryuu, standing behind him in horror and concern. His eyes flickered between Judar and (y/n), taking in (y/n)’s bloodied body in his arms, and the fearful look that crossed Judar’s face.

“Judar,” he almost growled. It came out in a scalding hiss. “ _ What _ did you  _ do? _ ”

He didn’t even bother answering him. Frankly, Judar looked like he just watched everything he ever loved burn in front of him. He could tell since Judar had grabbed him by the collar, hissing into his face and giving him a front row view. His eyes bore into Hakuryuu desperately, even if his actions seemed aggressive. 

“Zagan.  **Now.** ”

The prince would’ve done it without Judar telling him. 

Judar reached out to her just as Hakuryuu activated his Metal Vessel and directed his magoi to restore (y/n) again. He didn’t expect to find himself being whipped back by vines. 

“Hakuryuu, what the hell!”

Said person glared at Judar. His presence hovered protectively around himself and (y/n)’s unconscious figure. “I don’t know what happened here, Judar, but you need to leave.”

Anger boiled inside Judar. What? He wasn’t going to take orders! He did what he wanted, whenever he wanted. Besides (y/n) was right there and he needed to know if she was alive--

Hakuryuu seemed to follow Judar’s gaze on (y/n) since he whispered threateningly, “Stay away from her. I know you’re the one that did this, and you need to stay far away. Where you can’t hurt her. I’m not afraid to fight you if I need to.”

Any other day, Judar would’ve risen to the challenge. He would’ve readily fought Hakuryuu and shown him that he wouldn’t be spoken down to. He would’ve whipped out his wand and blasted him away to teach him a lesson. But she was right there, at his feet. (Y/n) was healing and living, because of Hakuryuu. And she was narrowly escaping death because of him. Because of Judar.

He almost killed her. 

He almost broke her.

No. He  **did** break her.

Judar broke the one woman that he ever feared for and now his chosen was looking at him like he was a monster that he needed to protect (y/n) from. Judar was used to being seen as the monster. He often relished in it. But now? When all he wanted was to hold (y/n) in his arms and feel her warmth again? Being a monster was far below his list of pleasures.

Judar found himself flying away, knowing that he wouldn’t forgive himself for breaking someone that was so precious to him. He flew high and he flew far. He flew until he couldn’t handle the ache in his chest. He flew and he went until he couldn’t suppress reality anymore.

  
Judar had broken the one person he ever loved.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hakuryuu is such a protective big bro (^u^) we'll be seeing more of him later and maybe a few other characters
> 
> Comments are always welcome!


	6. Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that your whole life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I haven't updated in nearly half a year! :( 
> 
> This chapter is extra long, so I hope it makes up for it.

Behind the Kou palace was where the royal peach orchards were. It was known to everyone that the royal orchids were where the best fruits were grown and that they were mostly given to only the highest positions on the empire. However, that didn’t stop citizens from sneaking into the orchids every now and then to pick out a few pleasures. The royal orchid keepers always thought to harvest their fruits around the middle, where most care was taken of them, thinking that was the place that the best peaches would lie. Of course, that was their mistake.

It wasn’t the royal keepers who would harvest the sweetest peaches, but rather the brave ones that snuck into the orchids and stole from the plants set along the edges. The peaches here were the sweetest because they were untainted from the potions the keepers would set on the trees. Even if they were smaller in portions, they tasted heavenly.

(Y/n) was lucky enough to know this.

But she also knew that the best peaches were at the end of the orchard, right beside the vast field that spread beyond it. Here, where the thieves wouldn’t dare venture for the high risk of getting caught, and where the keepers wouldn’t think of harvesting from. To (y/n), this was her sanctuary. Her little space that no one thought to venture to. And her favourite part of it was the meadow it led to.

On days where she needed silence, (y/n) would stroll through the terrain, letting her hands brush through the long grass that grew just to her mid-thigh as she moved aimlessly. These fields seemed boundless if she didn’t turn around to see the Kou palace behind her. The only thing that she would see was an ocean of vibrant green underneath the stark blue.

Here, she found peace.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and inhaled what she could only describe was the personification of serenity that carried towards her in the form of a wind. She could feel the grass tickling her skin, like gentle touches and kisses of welcome. If there was a time that (y/n) ever felt that she belonged somewhere truly, it was in these fields behind the peach orchard.

_You're happy right?_

A small hand slipped into her own. How could such a tiny presence bring so much warmth? (Y/n) didn't look down beside her, but she knew without needing a glance that there would be a child standing beside her, wondering about the thoughts on her mind.

“I am,” she whispered. As soon as her words left her mouth, she could almost feel it merge with the breeze. It felt so nice. Almost as if she was no longer bound to a single mortal body, but rather connected with the whole world; the only thing that let her know that she still existed being her thoughts.

_I think, therefore I am?_

“Yes,” (y/n) said fondly, giving the smaller hand in hers a squeeze. “That’s right.”

When she glanced down to look at the child, it was to her slight surprise that the child didn’t look like a child at all. If anything, it was just a vague outline of a small human, with no distinguishing feature other than the cloud like essence that formed it. This should have discomforted her, but all (y/n) could feel was affection and acceptance.

What a strange thing to feel, she thought.

Despite having no features, (y/n) just knew that it was looking away from her in towards the green fields. Slowly, the child raised their arm and pointed at something in the distance.

_I want to visit the ocean._

Well, that was too bad. The Kou palace was miles from any large bodies of water, and even in the direction that the child was pointing towards, there would be nothing for days other than grass and mountains. But (y/n) said nothing until she turned to see what the figure was pointing at, and to her surprise…

_Haven’t you always loved the water?_

Small fingers slipped away from her hands, and (y/n) watched in awe as the small figure ran towards the water in glee. They jumped and splashed among the waves, giggling in glee.

The waves splashed gently against her skin as she walked towards the shoreline. Surprisingly, the water was warm, almost like a soft silken blanket wrapping lovingly around her. The sand under her feet sunk in between her toes, the feeling almost similar to a thousand tiny kisses on her skin rather than the gritty discomfort that she came to know on her multiple voyages under the Kou empire’s name.

(Y/n) felt like crying.

“I used to live by the ocean,” she found herself saying. She didn’t mean to say anything, but the words started flowing out of her mouth before she could think twice about it. “My family lived in a village nearby one, and my father was a fisherman.” (Y/n) laughed softly, looking towards the child who had paused playing in the water and now looked towards her attentively. “That might explain why I fight using strings and knives.”

_You feel sad though. Why?_

(Y/n) looked downwards towards the tide that wove around her feet and ankles, before twisting back around and flowing back into the ocean. She then looked up, towards the horizon. There was always a longing inside her that sought the ocean, but as always, she ignored it. Just like she ignored everything else that she craved to love.

“I never went back to the ocean. Not like this. I never came back to feel the sand underneath my feet, nor to enjoy the sun shining on my face.” There was a shaky sigh, full of unshed tears. “Every time I came back to the water, I always had something dangerous or political with me. There was never a time that I could stop and remember my childhood memories that came with the sea.”

And she could remember it clearly now. She could remember the call of seagulls and the distant sound of laughter and occasional curses while she played in the sand with others. She could vividly remember seeing her father come onto shore with baskets full of fish, and then her mother coddling her after finding out how rough she’d played with the other kids. The ocean was full of good memories. Fond memories.

Memories that she had a hard time making more of after she left.

_Why did you go?_

One of her greatest regrets; she got involved with bad people. They were built up on loyalty and a hierarchy. Things that (y/n) once thought was noble when she was too young to understand anything. They had a code: no ratting anyone out, always looking out for each other, and punishing those who betrayed them. It was the usual things with little gangs. Back then, (y/n) didn’t think of her group as a gang.

They stole little things, just some food and trinkets. It was nothing too bad, nothing worse than the peach thieves back in Kou. But then she got in too deep. And she didn’t realize when bad was **bad**. She couldn’t remember when she started hurting people, but she knew that she was already far along bad business when she realized how far along she’d come. How corrupted she’d been. And how good she was at it.

Her parents had tried to stop her, of course they had. But they couldn’t stop her anymore when she left. They didn’t have any more power to do that, and if they tried, (y/n) was pretty sure that her younger self would have hurt them. She could never forgive herself for even thinking that way. Not especially when she missed the tender love that they’d given her in the short time that she had with them.

“I left because I was ashamed,” (y/n) replied. “I’d done bad things and I was wanted for it, and when I tried to make good for what I’d done, I was even more wanted for that. So I had to leave. I would have hurt more people if I stayed.”

The warm hand slipped back into hers. (Y/n) looked alongside into the eyes of the child. (E/c), just like hers. Huh. When did that happen? On another glance now, the little one that stood before her seemed more defined around the edges, and if she tried to concentrate, she could almost see a shade of skin through the cloudiness.

_Where did you go after?_

The scenery changed before her before (y/n) could take another breath. She found them standing in the middle of a familiar town. Except unlike the time that she spent in it, it stood empty around her. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel as eerie as it should have to see such a lively village so silent. Hand in hand, (y/n) led the child beside her deeper through the streets.

“I stayed here for a while,” she mused. “I’d thought about doing honest business for a while, and it worked out actually.” Yes, (y/n) could recall how she settled down with a small merchant business, excelling with her past knowledge of sales in the village, and less honorable means of knowledge from her past as a thief. She didn’t mean to, but after doing so well being able to say the right words to others to raise the sales (sweet talking was a skill that every village thief needed anyway), the merchant she’d worked for had allowed her to rise in the ranks. She’d ended up becoming their assistant in no time at all.

“Funnily enough,” she spoke as they passed the old location of a shop that she’d managed to convince the owners to sell to the merchant, “the Kou empire found me after pirates came around to attack the merchant ship I was on.” (Y/n) could distinctly recall the feeling of sick familiarity that flowed through her when the ship was attacked. She could remember the feeling of underlying shame as she went back to her violent roots and just barely reached the definition of slaughter when she dealt with those pirates.

On second thought, it wasn’t funny at all.

“The merchant got scared of me after I defended them from the pirates so well,” (y/n) continued to explain. “They turned me in with the pirates.” Or what was left of them.

_Why would they do that?_

The child whispered softly, almost scandalized, as if they took the betrayal as personally as (y/n) did all those years ago. She chuckled softly, and led the child away, looking around the town with sentimentality. “They were afraid, and truthfully, for a good reason too. I did some really bad things to those pirates, and they were just scared of what I did.”

Thankfully, the child didn’t ask (y/n) what she did. For some reason, she didn’t think she could even say no, even if she wanted to. Her answers did come out before she could even think about them after all.

_What happened after?_

The process was actually long if she could remember the story correctly. (Y/n) was sent to prison, and she stayed there for about a year or so, building her own system of hierarchy among the other prisoners. It was strange, how a life of crime made her so strong and charismatic. She took on the leadership role so swiftly, she hardly noticed she was doing it until it already happened.

It was when the Kou empire discovered that there was something strange happening with the inmates, and they followed their suspicions until it led to her. If (y/n) closed her eyes, she could almost see the exact moment that Hakuryuu walked into her cell, with an offering of her freedom for her political skill and deadliness. (Y/n) hadn’t tried to be a threat, she’d tried leaving that life behind, and surprisingly, she hadn’t lost all faith in herself in the prison. But she knew better than anyone, even if Hakuryuu knew as well, that she was almost gone when he’d reached her. And so, like dues ex machina, he’d plucked her out of there and gave her an opportunity to regain her honor.

“My friend Hakuryuu took me in after the merchants gave me away. He gave me a new life and a chance to be better.” Well, that was a soft way of saying it, but how else was she supposed to tell her dark story to a child of all people?

The child nodded, and this time, when (y/n) looked over, she noticed the child now had hair as dark as midnight, and now had a more distinct form overall. The rough figure that started the journey with her was now an actual physical child. (Y/n) was about to bend over to see the rest of their face, but the surroundings changed before she could do anything else.

Now they were back at the Kou palace.

In the place where (y/n) had learned to call home with the help of the Ren siblings, she had never felt more uncomfortable standing on the marble floors that now reminded her of sharp pain accompanied by coldness. And red eyes.

_What is this place?_

“This used to be my home,” (y/n) whispered, as if saying so was almost forbidden. She didn’t feel welcome here anymore. It didn’t feel the same way knowing what happened within these halls, and more intimately behind the doors. The Kou palace didn’t give her any warmth the same way that the last three locations did. Here, it was cold and the silence was deafening.

_It’s so big._

Yes. Big and empty. Like her heart.

That was what the Kou empire did to her in the end. She did good, she felt like she regained her honor, but she lost a bit of herself along the way. (Y/n) wanted to be good enough to go back home. That was her original intentions. But then the Kou empire needed her, and they used her until she became unfeeling to the dark things that she regretted knowing how to do. The only things that brought her warmth being the laughter of children and the illusion that she was loved. At this point, she wasn’t even sure if the friendships she made along with the Ren children were genuine to bring her happiness.

The Kou empire and everything that they made her do broke her heart. And she supposed that maybe she broke her own heart too because she made the decisions and allowed in the thoughts that turned her away from the light that she so desperately sought for. As much as she’d like to blame Kou for everything, it was also her fault that she’d been searching for love and redemption in the wrong direction.

_Why do you look sad? I thought you said you were happy?_

That’s right. That was what the child asked in the beginning, wasn’t it? “I’m not happy here anymore. I haven’t been happy here for a long time.”

_Why not? I thought you loved someone?_

Who? Judar?

A throbbing pain engulfed (y/n)’s chest. There were so many feelings that came along with that name. The feeling of wanting to cry, the feeling of fondness and affection, the feeling of betrayal, the feeling of longing. It was all too much at once. Did she love him? Yes. Did she want to? She wished even now that she could rip her own heart out to get rid of the heartache that came with him.

“Judar will be better off without me.”

And just like that. With just one sentence, it was like the whole world had come off her shoulders and instead stood in front of her.

“I went down easy, but I know I lived a good life. I did as much as I could and I know I tried my best.” Was she telling this to the child? Or was she trying to tell this to herself?

_What about your friends? Won’t they miss you? What about your family? What about the ocean?_

The voice sounded panicked, almost grief-stricken. The small hand now squeezed (y/n)’s and tugged in alarm.

_Won’t they miss you? Aren’t they waiting for you to come back?_

Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes, and she closed them to keep them from falling, and from seeing the child who was still tugging at her arm. She knew if she looked she wouldn’t be able to hold herself back. From what, she didn’t know, but her heart went out to their voice and the sound of sadness that filled their words. And the truth behind them too, because she knew that they’d miss her, knew that even to that very moment her family was waiting for her to come back home, and that they were just worried sick for her. They had no idea, and now she was going to die. “They’ll move on,” she tried to justify. “It’s normal for people to die in a war and even more so for them to carry on. I’ll miss them, and they’ll miss me, but that’s life.”

And she was already dead.

_But...but what about the children? They’re going to miss you._

Now, how could she answer that? (Y/n) loved those children, almost with all of her heart. She loved giving them peaches from the royal orchards where they weren’t allowed to go into. She loved to give to them, and she lived just to see them happy. How could she tell the child that she was ready to die and happy to go when the kids she had nurtured on her spare time were going to be sad because of her?

(Y/n) released a shaky sigh. “They’ll be okay. They have to.”

But would they really? She knew what loss meant to children. She went through hers voluntarily, and it tore her apart. How much more would it mean to the children that expected her to return, only to find out that they would never see her again? (Y/n) would never know because she wouldn’t be there to find out.

And truthfully, some selfish part of her was okay with that.

The small hand in hers slips away, and finally (y/n) opens her eyes, the tears that she’d been holding back falling down her cheeks without any abandon, just to see how badly her reply had affected the child. Even if she didn’t have any right to care, not after her words and her silent decision, she still wanted to be compassionate.

But there, standing in front of her, a child with hair as black as the night and eyes belonging to her gazed up in a look that could only be described as disappointment. The child was a boy, (y/n) realized, and he looked so, _so_ familiar.

_You would have been a good mother._

(Y/n) laughed bitterly, and nodded. Maybe. In another life maybe.

_Are you really going to give up?_

“I’m not really giving up,” (y/n) said. “I don’t have a choice but to leave. That’s what dying is. There’s no possible way that I could live after what Judar did to me.” A bolt of ice through her abdomen. There really was no chance at all for her to live.

_You’re lying._

(Y/n) was taken aback by the amount of venom that slipped in the boy’s voice. When she looked at him, he was glaring at her through watery eyes.

 _You’re just giving up. I_ **_know_ ** _you can go back, but you just don’t want to._

“You know nothing,” (y/n) hissed back defensively. “You’re just a child. And you don’t know half the things in this world that I do.”

 _You have more than enough strength to go back if you wanted to! You_ **_do_ ** _have a choice! You’re here, aren’t you? You’re just giving up! You’re doing all of this on purpose!_

“I’m not,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. She wasn’t giving up on purpose. If she could, she’d go back and she’d do everything that the child asked her to think of. She’d go back home, her _real_ home, and she’d meet her parents again. She’d visit the ocean and she’d feel the sun and breeze kiss her face again. (Y/n) would go back and start all over again if she had the chance.

Oh.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She couldn’t go back anymore. She couldn’t turn time around and undo things she wished she hadn’t done. (Y/n) could only go forward, and really, that was what held her back, wasn’t it?

_Please don’t die._

(Y/n) looked up again, and now the child faced her with tears silently streaking down his cheeks. He reached out for her hand and brushed softly against her fingers before firmly grasping her wrist and shaking her.

_Please don’t die! Please! I don’t want you to die!_

(Y/n) felt a deep tremor shake along the ground beneath her, and she looked around in alarm. In the edge of her vision, she could see the room that she stood in crumbling away at the fringes and then fading off into black nothingness. What was happening?

_Listen to me! Please! Please, you can’t die! I’m begging you!_

Was it the boy? Was the world crumbling away because of him?

“Shhh, please calm down,” (y/n) tried. She knelt down to his height and reached out to his face, brushing away his tears. “Hush, baby, don’t cry.”

The boy only continued to sob and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

_I don’t want you to die. I’m so afraid of what will happen if you die. Please...please don’t die._

The darkness was approaching fast, and despite having calmed the boy down a bit, nothing was happening to stop it. Was (y/n) really dying now? Was this void of blackness really the promise of death? For some reason, the feeling of comfort that she once had of death was long gone, and all she felt was panic and fear. Why was she afraid now?

“What can I do now?” she whispered desperately, watching the darkness creep nearly less than a few meters away.

The boy sobbed and leaned forward until he was deep in an embrace with (y/n). He held onto her tightly, as if it were a final goodbye, and whimpered into her ear,

_Please live for me._

In her arms, (y/n) watched as the boy crumbled away with the world.

_I wanted to meet you._

Now all she knew was darkness, and in death (y/n) knew that there was no warm embrace in the void where she found herself alone. She missed the fields. She missed the colours. She missed the wind. She missed the child.

Her child.

(Y/n) sighed, defeat and regret mixing into one emotion, as she looked down at her own hands hand saw a slower progress of her fading away. This time, instead of the fast paced crumble she’d seen everything else disappear with, she watched herself go at a steady pace as she faded like dust in a breeze that she could not feel.

She wanted to live.

And just then, like a miracle, a white butterfly appeared and fluttered before her. Was that right? A butterfly? Didn’t it have a different name? A...rukh?

Before (y/n) could think of anything else, a bright light exploded from the lone rukh and everything that she longed for filled her.

(Y/n) felt alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End angst.
> 
> Please feel free to comment and leave some constructive criticism!


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